


Let Them Try

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:25:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little ficlet about G1 Megatron and Starscream's dynamic. They have all this banter back and forth about Starscream wanting power, and Megatron slapping him back down both verbally and physically. But I've always felt that some of Megatron's rejoinders sound almost like advice, and wondered what that means about his real opinion of his rebellious Second. Hence: this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Them Try

“At last,” Megatron said, his optics bright. “Total victory is within my grasp!”

He’d been fighting his war for so long now that he'd stopped imagining what winning would feel like. He’d imagined doing it over and over -- his forces overwhelming their Autobot foes at last, his hands finally wrenching the spark from the lifeless, graying frame of Optimus Prime. He knew he would exult in it, but he hadn't allowed himself the luxury of guessing much more.

It felt like anticipation, and eagerness, and underneath it all a little thrill of fear. They still had to get home, after all.

And once they did, what would happen? They still had a planet to rebuild.

But now he could see it in his mind, clearer and brighter than those nights when he dreamed of vanquishing his foes once and for all. Now, with the Nemesis soaring into the Earth’s atmosphere, it finally felt real. He clenched a fist and raised it, trusting to his hands to say the things his voice could not.

Starscream was eager too, leaning forward, his wings flared out and his optics wide with hunger.

“Not yours, Megatron,” he said, his high, rasping voice laced with static. His null ray pulsed with energy as it charged, and he leveled it at Megatron. “Mine.”

Megatron laughed. He should have known.

He made no move to raise his own weapon. He’d seen this too many times. “I see that you have learned nothing, Starscream.”

The hand raising the null ray shook. Starscream’s dark face curled in barely suppressed rage. “Wrong! I've learned a great deal.”

His expression shifted into a smirk, cold and sharp as a blade. “I won't miss this time.”

Megatron cycled power to the cannon on his arm. He felt it pulse, collected there, crackling with the urge to destroy.

It felt good. And it was always wise to be prepared -- especially around Starscream.

But he made no threatening move. Instead he gestured, normal and natural, as the gathered Decepticons slipped away into the corners of the bridge.

“Beware, Starscream,” Megatron said, staring straight into the bright crimson of Starscream’s optics. A scar on his back twinged with remembered pain -- he’d just had the wound welded closed. Starscream had shot him in the back, just the other night. Megatron had whirled on him, caught him by the wings, and --

But there was no time to savor that memory. Not now. Not with Earth’s atmosphere thinning around their ship, its engines vibrating beneath their feet, the cargo hold packed with more energon than they’d dared to dream of holding in four million years.

“If you dispose of me,” Megatron said, his words careful and deliberate, “there will always be someone waiting to dispose of you.”

Starscream laughed, high and wild. His optics flickered. “Let them try!”

He steadied his trembling hand, and lavender energy crackled over the surface of the null ray. “I've waited for this moment a long time, Megatron, and my time is now!”

 _Is it, Starscream?_ Megatron thought. He raised his own arm to aim at Starscream with an icy calm that chilled his very spark. _If you do strike me down now -- will you be ready?_

_When you walk the streets of a half-awoken Cybertron, the metal cold and gray and the lights bright with new energy, will you remember to beware?_

_When you meet a mech, tall and broad with bright, cold optics, will you remember what I’ve told you? Will you remember the scars you left on me?_

_When he moves through your ranks like water, and climbs to your side over the mangled frames of any mechs who stand in his way, will you know what you’ve invited when you draw him to your side?_

_When you go into your throne room and find him sitting in the place my death reserved for you, will you remember? When he laughs and shoves you to the ground and you open yourself to him, will you know what he knows? When he buries himself inside you, twists your wings, and sees you lose yourself to the pain, will you know what he is seeing?_

_Will you know that the greatest risk you take comes from your own desire? From the very passion that draws you to him? From your own pride in the one mech who demands your esteem?_

_Will you be prepared when the knife at your back is his? Will you be wise enough to stop him? Will you, a mech fueled by emotions, control them well enough to stay both his hand and your own?_

_Will you be ready -- every time?_

His cannon thrummed with energy. He smiled again, a wry, twisted grin, and opened his mouth to speak.

Soundwave’s voice interrupted him, calm as always, supremely indifferent to the storm within his mind.

Perhaps today would not be Starscream’s after all.

 

 

 


End file.
